


Been Watching You For A Long Time

by talkingtothesky



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Episode: s03e16 RAM, F/M, M/M, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Pre-Canon, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 22:18:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18748213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/pseuds/talkingtothesky
Summary: Harold hasn't calculated on Stanton preferring to see Reese's shirt on the floor.





	Been Watching You For A Long Time

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime before 3x16 RAM.
> 
> I reallyyyy don't like this one, but it also strikes me as plausible? I've gone for an interpretation of Harold who has always been awkward and repressed and gay.
> 
> Warning for Kara being...herself, in terms of goading John into things even when he tries to object.
> 
> The title is a line from Harold to John in the Pilot.

Harold orders Dillinger to plant a camera in an apartment without telling him it's a CIA safehouse. No other person enters the premises for thirteen days.

At 23:02 on a Wednesday, the sensor detects movement.

"What now?" Reese clears the bedroom with his gun at his hip. He takes a picture frame off the wall and disturbs a potted plant, opens the wardrobe door but doesn't run his hand along the rack. Harold was right - he lives out of a suitcase, has stopped bothering to hang up his clothes.

He hasn't calculated on Stanton preferring to see Reese's shirt on the floor.

"Sleep, eat, shit? We're off the clock. Relax." Her grip on his throat doesn't look very relaxing.

"Kara..." Reese says, a warning note, which only makes her smile. "I like working with you..."

"So work with me." She squeezes below the belt. Harold can only guess that's what happens from the way Reese shudders, expression transforming from cautious grimace to...something else.

Harold swallows. He'd only meant to determine whether Reese likes his job. Whether he could be persuaded to like it less. The Machine has made it quite clear that Harold should be looking into him as a potential employee.

The figures on the screen move quickly, after that. The bed makes a familiar sound when Stanton throws herself onto it, a noise that takes Harold back to half-buried adolescent memories of muffled laughter and squeaky bedsprings - not his own. Nathan's, on the other side of a too-thin wall. Harold's pillow pulled over his ears, trying with all his might not to listen, but listening intently all the same.

He had framed it as ongoing private research into human interaction - what does Nathan say to make them trust him? Too many girls, not even fazed by Nathan's playboy reputation, drawn to it. Boys, too, rarely. Harold made himself scarce on those nights, wandering aimlessly around campus, too frightened to feign sleep.

John Reese doesn't chuckle, or flatter, or whisper anything remotely sweet. He doesn't falter, not even when his partner repeatedly tells him what a worthless piece of shit he is. Harold mutes Stanton's unfortunate commentary, the better to appreciate Reese's perfectly sculpted, and powerfully flexing, back. Harold's fingertip traces the curve of it on his monitor - then snatches his hand back, appalled with himself.

But he still doesn't stop watching. He leaves the sound off, unable to pull his eyes away until John rolls over, breathing deeply, spent.

Harold abruptly cuts the feed. His hands are weak on the wheels of his chair until he gains purchase. He retrieves the box of tissues from a drawer, drops them in his aching lap and then moves quickly, away from his computers, away from the library windows. In the bathroom, he gets into position to flush away the mess. Harold shuts his eyes and pictures Reese's healthy body while he reluctantly takes care of his own.


End file.
